With Every Heartbeat
by brencon
Summary: Craig Dean, alone and lost as to who he is, arrives in Dublin to find that he might not be as straight he was so sure. Chapter 7 is up.
1. So Here We Are

**Part One – So Here We Are**

One hour. That's all. One hour. One long, lonely, desolate hour since Craig took the lonely step onto the flight to Dublin. Even though the flight wasn't the longest in the world, it felt like forever.

Sitting in his seat, safely strapped in, Craig had never felt more trapped. He felt stuck, and he didn't know how to shake this feeling. As the final people boarded the flight, a couple no less, Craig finally realised that he was all alone heading to city he'd only ever seen in films or in brochures.

His eyes stung, but he stilled them from shedding any tears. It was only when the late arrivals shared a love-filled kiss that Craig released the sob that had been growing inside ever since his soul mate walked out of his life.

He felt empty, like a part of him had been ripped out.

Finding his luggage had been easy to do, getting the taxi from the airport to his Dublin home had proved more difficult than he thought, but he liked the distraction.

He had spent the last of the taxi ride staring out but seeing nothing. And when the taxi stopped, he knew he had to shake himself from his lost feeling.

Arriving at his hovel, he was surprised to see another young man exiting a similar taxi. His brown hair was shimmering in the last of the day light, and Craig could feel himself getting entranced. His hair was spiked at odd directions; his clothes were of the casual style, although Craig saw that he was carrying a cardigan of his own liking.

But it was his eyes that caught Craig's attention. Two pools of blue that seemed to reflect his soul… an entirely different shade than those of the boy that had left him alone in the busy check-in. But the comparison wasn't lost on him.

When the driver dropped his only bag at his feet, he abruptly awoke and shyly smiled to him before handing over the money.

The door to the house opened that was split in two levels opened. A woman who looked to be well into her fifties, her curly gray hair elbow long and her coke bottle glasses almost falling from the bridge of her nose rushed towards the two boys and roughly shook their hands as the taxis drove away.

"I'm Siobhan, your landlady." She said, smiling at both boys.

Smirking at Craig, the other lad lifted his rucksack and placed it on his back.

"I'm C…" he started, before Siobhan made a shushing noise.

"Let me guess! I've always been good at guessing my tenant names!"

Siobhan, placing her hands on her hips, looked at both studiously. Turning to Craig, she offered her hand to him again, which he fearfully took, "Are you Mr. Connor? Connor O'Brien?"

Stifling a laugh, Craig shook his head and croaked out his own name.

"Cr-Craig Dean."

Looking crestfallen, the woman shook his hand and then faced the real Connor.

"In all my years of renting to students, this is the first time I guessed their names wrong," She murmured, her right hand diving into her overly-large coat. The sound of keys rattling was heard, followed by the rattling as she pulled a single set of keys from her pocket.

The elderly woman then strode back to the house, waving her arm after her for the boys to follow.

Chuckling, Connor lifted the satchel, or laptop bag, Craig wasn't sure, and followed her.

"I guess that means 'follow the leader!'"

Laughing nervously, Craig followed the two before him, and tried hard to shake off this glow-y feeling that was growing in his chest.

Entering the kitchen, Craig found Siobhan leaning against one of the counters, Connor was sitting on the back of one of the two midnight blue couches... the colour brought Connor's eyes out even more.

Craig felt himself getting lost again.

For the second time (or was it the third?) he shook himself from his daze. He placed his bag on the dining table that was in the middle of the room and waited for his landlady to hand over the keys to his new home.

Siobhan was pulling off two keys from the set and held out one for both boy's to take.

"These are the keys to the front door. Two bedrooms are upstairs, where the main bathroom is, and a small toilet is here, under the stairs. Obviously we have a kitchen - living room – dining room here, and the bare essentials I got for ya – tea, milk, bread, sugar, butter and some cheese and ham. Cutlery is in the draw beside the sink, and plates and bowls and so on are above that."

Trying to take everything in that the aging woman had just said, Craig soon realised a problem.

"Eh, Siobhan?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I thought this house was split in two? When we spoke on the phone, you said that one tenant would have the upstairs and one would have the downstairs."

The woman nervously grinned as she took a handful of curls and began making a braid.

"Yeah, well… that house was already taken when we spoke, so I didn't have time to clear it with you before you arrived… it's not going to be a problem, is it? I mean, Connor looks like he cleans up after himself."

Shaking his head, Craig glanced at Connor and tried not to blush, "No, it's no problem at all. Just wondered what happened there."

"Ok so, if there are any other problems, my numbers on the fridge. Enjoy Dublin boys."

Waving to the duo, Siobhan glided out of the kitchen and the lads heard the front door open and slam shut.

Gulping, Craig pulled out one of the chairs from the table and sat down, the chair creaking as he did so.

"Well that was…" Connor started.

"Weird." Craig finished.

Both boys looked at each other for a moment before they both burst out laughing.

It took them bout at least 10 minutes to recover enough to actually speak.

"Craig," He said, offering his hand to his new housemate.

"Connor."

The boys looked around the living area before grabbing their luggage and heading to the stairs.

"Looks grand so far," Connor said, following Craig up the stairs, his Irish lilt sending shivers up Craig's spine.

Once at the top, the boys found the bathroom and then the bedrooms. Seeing as there was only two bedrooms, they were of equal size, and both already had a double bed, wardrobe, study desk and chair in place.

The boys choose which room they wanted and decided to unpack first before getting any further.

Craig entered his room, dropped his bag to the floor and, closing his bedroom, leant his head against the pine wood.

Here I am, he thought. I'm finally in Dublin.

He closed his eyes and orbs of blue appeared before him.

He needed another distraction. He took his bag and tossed it on the bed. Opening it up, he grabbed all of his clothes and haphazardly shoved them in the wardrobe. He got to his iPod and iStation and placed it on the study desk. And then he found the photo frame.

His hand, of its own free will, moved to stroke the image of younger boy in the picture.

Kissing the picture, Craig wiped away his sudden tears and placed the wooden frame on his bedside table.

He still had four days until registration and induction, so he had plenty of time to make his room feel comfortable. The only actual work he did was to dress the bed, put up pictures of his family and hang his posters.

He returned downstairs to find Connor watching TV, the only all-Irish channel.

Dropping himself on the other sofa, Craig tried his hardest to understand what was being said.

"So, do you actually understand what she's saying?" He asked after a few minutes of viewing.

"Pretty much," Connor said, "I come from one of the last few places in the country to speak Irish full time, one of the islands of Mayo, Achill?"

Craig shook his head and ran his hand through his hair, "Nope, never heard of it."

"Not to worry, I've probably never heard of where you're from."

"Chester," Craig offered, once he realised what Connor was asking.

"Same for me! Not one iota."

-----

His first day and night in Dublin was a lot more enjoyable than he thought it would be. He found himself fast making a friend, something that always seemed impossible for him.

After watching the Irish channel for a few hours, they had gone into to town for a pizza and then went in search of an off licence.

Returning to their flat with their arms filled to the brim with beer, the boys chatted about what course they would be doing (Connor was doing English literature and Drama) and about their families.

And Craig found the glowing feeling inside was getting bigger, and that Connor smelt really nice and that his skin had this perfect shine to it.

And when Craig looked into those blue eyes again, he felt his body leaning closer to the warmth of the Irish one beside him and their lips ever so slightly, ever so excitingly, brush together.


	2. In My Arms

So, here's part two. Just to let you know, the chapter titles come from tracks of bands that I was listening to as I wrote the chapter. Chapter one I was listening to Bloc Party, and that song seemed to work well. For this chapter, it was Snow Patrol.

**Part Two – In My Arms**

The boys had ended up in a place called Four Star Pizza, a small diner just around the corner from their apartment. The two had made conversation over the footy, and music.

They had sat at their booth and ordered a medium sized double cheese pizza, and two cokes.

"So, what do ya think of Dublin so far?" Connor asked, scratching his chin.

"Well, so far, I've seen Dublin Airport, the road to the apartment, the apartment, a very busy O'Connell's street and here… so far it's alright… not like I pictured it when I applied, but it will get better once I actually go to Uni."

"So you didn't go to an open day?"

"Nah, just looked at some brochure's and stuff… and I love Guinness, which was also a deciding factor!"

Laughing, Connor scratched his neck before dropping it onto the table, right onto Craig's hand.

Craig's stomach jumped as his eyes fluttered to the contact. He took a deep breathe and looked up at his newest acquaintance with bated breathe.

Connor's eyes rested on their joined hands and he was almost smiling. He seemed okay with the contact. Or am I just reading too much into this? Craig thought as he audibly gulped. And was it just Craig's imagination, or did Connor just gently stroke his hand?

The boys kept chatting, hands in constant touch and it was driving Craig insane… he could barely make any reasonable words leave his mouth; it was just a bunch of yes's and no's.

Craig's jeans felt too tight for his own good.

It was only when their waitress returned with their dinner that Connor withdrew his hand.

Craig could breathe again.

They both dived at the pizza like men who had not seen food in their lives before and it was completely gone within minutes.

They chatted some, but if you asked Craig what about, he couldn't tell you… it went in one ear and out the other… all because of those two bright blue spheres's looking at him so intently.

Splitting the bill, the boys rose to their feet and decided to find the closest off-licence and buy the cheapest beer they could find.

"So, what made you decide to come to Dublin?" Craig asked, as he and Connor scanned the street for any shop's that appeared to sell alcohol.

"Well, Trinity has the course I wanted to do, and I wanted to get away from my family for a little breather, so I though 'why not go to the other side of the country to get a little space?'. I mean, I love my family, but sometimes, they just drive me up the wall!"

Laughing, Craig looked at his feet to stop Connor from seeing his face darkening to a red shade. If only he knew about my lot! Craig thought.

A bright green neon light shone before the two, a Heineken sign.

"A-ha! Alcomahol!" Connor joked, placing his hand over his heart.

Pushing the door open, Craig waited for Connor to enter before doing so himself. Shelves stacked to the brim with wine, beers, alco-pops and spirits surrounded them once they entered. Finding the cheapest priced beer, Craig whipped out his wallet, now carrying Euro, and said he'd get this.

Accepting his offer, Connor helped him pack it into a box and held the door open for him as they left.

Returning home, it was just before the starry night was hidden behind foreboding storm clouds.

With the TV on, his feet on the coffee table before him, a cold beer in his hand and his new friend to his right side, Craig was feeling better than he had just 6 hours ago.

He had promised himself that he wouldn't think of what happened that afternoon, but how could he not? That boy was… IS the love of his life, his _soul mate._

As the bottles got emptied and piled on the table, the alcohol grew in their systems.

The glow from the TV screen illuminated the living room of the boy's apartment. Craig replaced his third bottle, now empty, with his fourth. And, all those times he had been called a lightweight, he now believed them. He felt incredibly loose and confident.

As he settled back into the settee, Craig specifically rested his leg against Connors. An indefinite spark passed between them.

"Ah, Stella… my cheap friend!" Connor exclaimed, finishing off his third bottle also. He reached forwards and grasped another bottle, popping the top off.

Their legs in contact, the two drank in the comfort of each other's silence, listening to the chatter of conversation on the TV.

And still the boys talked, about life, their hopes and fears, their experiences and expectations, pasts and presents… loves and friends… and enemies.

But every time Craig got close to the topic of his summer, he always water coloured it, dodged his explanations with a quick story that he 'got engaged but they split just before I came to Dublin' – it was as close to the truth as Craig could get without lying too much. He had enough of lying.

Connor said that he had just ended a two year relationship with a girl from back home, since he would be here, and she would be going straight into the workforce.

"And how is singledom going for you?" Craig asked, drinking deep from his bottle.

Connor shrugged as he stretched. His free hand dropped from the air and land on Craig's knee and, much to Craig's nerves, remained there.

"I'm getting used to it – slowly!"

Connor took a drink before chuckling.

"So, you had a lucky escape from marriage, eh? How was that?"

The worst decision I ever made was asking Sarah to marry me, second after asking her to come to Dublin with me, Craig thought.

"Um, it just… we just fell apart."

"Fell apart?"

"Yeah, she was getting all these modelling gigs in London and I was left wondering what she was doing… or who, to be accurate."

And there it was… the never ending pit of lies and secrets… and Craig had throw himself neck deep in it all over again.

"She cheated? Man, I'm sorry."

His skin crawling at his own cowardice, Craig got very interested in the label on his beer bottle.

"Hey."

The couch shifted as Connor got even closer.

"Craig, look at me."

He didn't. His head was getting light as the smell of Connor washed over.

"It's okay to be sad."

Connor's firm hand took Craig's chin delicately and moved his head upwards, so that brown eyes met blue.

"I'm sorry for ya, mate."

When Craig looked into those blue eyes again, he felt himself get lost. He felt his body leaning closer to the warmth of the Irish one beside him.

They were breathing each others air; eyes looked in a sparkling glaze. Craig worshipped the trepidation that was pulsing in Connor's eyes.

His bottle was placed at his feet, Connors on the table before them.

It was instinct to take the Irish boy in his grasp, with him resting in his arms.

Maybe it was the beer he was drinking, maybe it was fate's cruel joke as their lips ever so slightly, ever so excitingly, brush together.

It was a rush, to kiss someone else. To feel them close to him. To not feel rejected.

But Craig knew it couldn't last, so he pulled away first and rose from the couch, spilling his beer in the process.

His eyes stung as those blues eyes gazed at him, a-wash with confusion.

He couldn't stay there. He had to run.

But was it his imagination or was it Connor that whispered that tiny, four letter word, that he was sure could not have been real?

"Wait."


	3. Hold On

Chapter three and this time round its Razorlight… wonder why I was listening to them whilst writing Holloaks fic?

**Part Three – Hold On**

Two hours after he had run away from Connor, Craig had decided that he couldn't sleep and had begun to properly unpack.

Clothes could now be found in his wardrobe or his chest of drawers. He blu-taced some pictures of his family, the picture of two smiling boys, arms wrapped tight around each finding pride of place in the centre of the circle of family.

The framed one was also out, grasped firmly in his hand, as music from Connors bedroom echoed down through the quiet hallway.

Craig hadn't heard him rise up the stairs or when exactly the music had begun to play, but the track… God, the whole album, playing was one he knew every chord, every syllable, every lyric and chorus back to front and upside down.

The dulcet tones of Johnny Borrell could be heard resounding of the old walls in modern day Dublin house.

Craig had worn out his CD during the summer just gone by… it had held so much truth to him during his turmoil that he ended up buying a second copy of the album.

Now, it hurt too much to even think of that single track that was his very being, the soundtrack to his impossibly complicated and confusing life.

As one track finished, Craig knew, even without thinking, he knew that it would be _their_ song next.

The shimmering guitar started as Craig, lying sideways on his bed, starred at his soul mates shining smile. For the third time since escaping his predicament downstairs, Craig had retrieved his phone from the bedside table and had started to type out a text message to the love of his life.

When it came to sending the message, he failed spectacularly each time. His hand cramped, his eyes watered, and the phone fell to his bed.

"I know who I am and I know what I'm not…"

Wasn't that they very reason his blue eyed DJ had left him to his tears and fears at check-in mere hours ago?

His eyes returned to the framed photo at his side. He stroked the boys beautiful face as fresh tears spilled, salty and hot down his face.

Here he was, crying about his former lover, when he already kissed someone else… another GUY no less!

"Same old story, same old me…"

Why did he always, when things got tough, make the wrong decisions? He was lost without his best mate, and he was screwing up any chance he had of making friends with his house mate by kissing him.

He was so lost in his thoughts that knocking at his door was unknown to him for a few minutes before he called out "C'min" to Connor.

The door opened, and the moonlight from Craig's window illuminated the Irish boy's sullen face. Craig could tell he had been crying, his eyes were bloodshot and his face carried tear stains.

"Some how you turn it around…"

The black haired boy crossed the room, having closed the door after himself, and sat on the edge of Craig's bed.

He sniffled as he breathed in, sighed as he breathed out.

"And now you're finding out why…"

Connor's voice croaked as he called out Craig's name.

"What happened downstairs, Craig? Why'd you runaway?"

Craig opened his mouth, but air was all that escaped his throat.

"You refuse to regret…"

Craig caught sight of the boy sitting at his feet and felt his breath catch in his throat. He flowed down the bed, sitting beside his acquaintance, and, terrified of the outcome, but powered by this feeling he couldn't throw away, grasped the other's hand.

Interlocking their fingers, Craig squeezed Connor's hand affectionately. Craig felt Connor relax beside him.

"But if you want love…"

Craig took a steep first step and told Connor the truth of his summer – his summer of discovery as he had once called it after everything come out at the engagement party that shouldn't have been.

He told Connor of his confusion of his feelings for his best friend, his jealously at the sight of said friend talking, holding hands, kissing his boyfriend ("What kind of name is SPIKE anyway?") and then his overload of thoughts, his feelings deepening, his fear of rejection, of abandonment.

He explained what had happened at the airport just hours previously, of how he had lost everything he had ever wanted in such a space of time.

And then he told of what he was feeling now.

How anytime he saw Connor, his stomach started doing somersaults. How he had watched Connor from the corner of his eye when they had watched TV before heading out in search of pizza. He spoke of his anticipation every time Connor touched him, looked at him a certain way, or ever just the sound of the boys laugh.

When he arrived at kissing scene from two hours ago, Connor had leant his head against his shoulder.

Craig swallowed hard as he tried to find the words of what he felt just hours ago, he found his tongue was dry and yet his hands clammy.

"And if you reach out…"

He talked about the glowing feeling he had felt, how good he thought Connor had smelt and how he had bowed his head to stop himself from grabbing hold and kissing Connor hard.

And when they had arrived at where they were now, Craig felt his shoulders lose the weight he hadn't known was there. He watched as Connor faced him. 

It was Connor this time that leant in. That held the older boy firmly in his arms. That brushed their lips together, tentatively at first, but given a few seconds, with flare and a wandering tongue that knew how to make Craig's breath flood out his nose.

It was Connor who forced Craig on his back all so willingly. It was Connor whose hands snaked beneath Craig's red shirt, feeling the muscled stomach beneath.

"Well I will reach out too…"

Craig's hands found themselves buried in Connor's soft, spiky hair, as he sucked the other's tongue into his mouth, wrapping his own around it fiercely, possessively even.

Connor's fingers were working the buttons to Craig's top open. He reached the final one and, with great difficulty, popped it open. He slid the garment of Craig's shoulders.

Craig broke back and locked their gazes once more. "Hold on… Connor, are you sure?"

Connor's tears, once dried, were fresh, and Craig was reminded of a moment just over four months ago, when he had been asked that very same question.

The younger boys' eyes, water-filled and shining in the moonlight, glanced around the room quickly before finding Craig's once more. He was already working Craig's belt open when he gave a solemn nod of his head before crashing their mouths together.

"So just hold on… well I'll hold on too…"


	4. A Bad Dream

Song choice is Keane this time.

**Part Four – A Bad Dream**

Connor, desperate to revel in this feeling, overwhelmed with his emotions, fought hard to remove Craig's jeans from his lower legs (they had bunched up at Craig's knees), followed by his boxers, was now retracing his path back up Craig's torso, kissing all flesh that met his lips in the process, before capturing Craig's mouth with his once more.

The force and power of Connors kiss made Craig's legs turn numb as the boy began to remove his own clothes. In haste, Connor's arms got caught in his t-shirt. Craig chuckled as he helped dispose of the difficult garment.

Now both naked, there was a moment when both took in the sight of the other. Craig's eyes followed all the dips and rises of Connor's skin, along with its tanned view. It was obvious the Irish boy was a swimmer.

Connor was in awe at the muscles that swam beneath Craig's torso. The olive skin looked incredibly tasty; Connor licked his lips in anticipation of kissing that flesh once more.

Once more, Craig asked the question "Are you sure?"

Connor's voice quivered as he answered, but he knew without a doubt that he couldn't stop, that this thing between them couldn't stop. He had to follow his head.

"I'm sure," he answered, mere seconds before latching his lips to Craig's once more. The kiss was fiery, full of clashing teeth and tongues fighting for dominance, hands grasping at flesh, hair and cotton sheets.

Craig, taking control of this moment, rolled Connor onto his back and started travelling down his chest. He tasted anything that he came into contact and his head was swimming. His mind was blown – his soul mate had tasted so pure and sweet and lovely but Connor… Connor was so different. He was musky and strong and addictive.

Connor's hardness was planted lying against his stomach, hard and dripping. Craig grasped it and tugged gently at first before rubbing his thumb over the head and continuing with his stroking motion.

He kissed Connor once more before he was pushed onto his back – Connor had taken control once more. He copied Craig's movements, before taking the next step.

He tentatively took Craig's cock in his mouth, tasting the skin, enjoying as the fullness entered his mouth.

Connor took tentative steps at first, just accommodating to the intruder in his mouth, but soon he was rising and falling as Craig's hands got caught in Connor's brown hair.

Craig was at a loss of words. He began to rise to Connor's actions, his hands gripping tighter to Connor's hair.

The name came as a whisper but it still rocked his very core.

"John…" He groaned, tossing his head back into his pillow.

Connor's ear's shook at the mention of another boy's name. He quickly drew his mouth away from Craig's hardness and wiped his face clear.

"Who's John?"

Craig, shook from his daze, he finally realised that Connor was now replacing his clothes. Craig followed his actions and began dressing himself.

"Is he… is he the boy who you fell in love with? Your best mate?"

Craig's breathe caught in his throat as he dragged his jeans back up his legs and crashed his arms through his red shirt.

"I… I can't, I'm sorry…I'm just… sorry." Craig gasped, getting to his feet, he grabbed his mobile and slowly exiting his own bedroom. He arrived downstairs, back in their living room, and reached for another bottle of Stella.

He popped it open and drank fast and deep. His head started swimming as he slammed the now empty bottle onto the table and reached for another.

He popped it open also, but held off in consuming the alcohol. He opened up a blank message on his mobile and began to type it out.

_I'm sorry I couldn't kiss you. I miss you. I love you. C xxx._

He scrolled down through his contracts. He selected John Paul. His hand hovered over the send button before he finally pressed it, his message sent.

He once more drank from his bottle, taking to large gulps. He switched his phone off and tossed it onto the table before him.

As he lulled in the darkness of his Dublin hovel, Craig felt the tears that he'd held back all day begin fall in streams down his face.

-------

Craig had waited two whole weeks for a message from JP, but none came. He received no emails, calls or texts from his ex-lover. His mother and sister had text him and called him almost daily, even Jake had sent him a text.

It was a Thursday night when Craig headed out to Sin, a popular night club in Dublin, with a couple of his mates from his course. They got shots and spirits and Craig was wasted by twelve thirty. His friends sent him home in a taxi, even though his apartment was not that far away. Craig tried and failed to unlock his front door and ended up awaking Connor.

It was this night, in his drunken and depressed state, wanting to feel needed and desired, that Craig and Connor first slept together. It was awkward at first, but Craig paved the way and their sex turned to passion and gave rise to an even more awkward tension within their apartment.

------

A month later and Connor and Craig had unintentionally become attached and desolate. The two could not be around each other without either ripping each others clothes off or having a row of desperate proportions.

The only words crossed between them were 'Good morning', 'good night', or 'harder.'

It was at this time that Craig first tried an E tablet. One of the guys on his course had told Craig that his housemate had gotten his hands on a couple of tablets and asked if he'd like to try it.

Normally, Craig would've refused, but he had heard the weekend gone by that John Paul and Spike had been seen walking around the village hand in hand. They'd even shared a kiss whilst having a pint in the Dog.

Craig's system was already overfilled with Jack Daniels that his conscience was not of great use.

So Craig accepted the tablet and awaited his depression to be lifted, be it only a temporary upper.

On the same night, Craig had pulled a drunken Irish girl. They made out for almost twenty minutes before Craig separated from her in search of a drink. Once more lubricated with a shot of Baby Guinness and a fresh JD and Coke, Craig returned to the dance floor and sought another conquest.

He found a man that resembled his former lover gyrating away with a group of blokes in the centre of the dance floor. His blonde hair spike at odd directions, his ands above his head as the music washed over.

Craig's breathe hitched in his throat at how strong the resemblance was. Craig finished his whiskey in one gulp and made his way through the crowd to the man that drew his attention so strongly.

Craig approached him with such confidence that Craig himself could not believe it. But with the amounts of alcohol and the drug in his system, he knew he had this strength from somewhere.

Amongst the crowd of men, Craig had removed his object of affection from his friends and pulled him to a quiet area of the night club.

He couldn't help but notice that this blonde's eyes were a dazzling shade of blue as well.

Within moments, they were kissing, the two caught in a scene of love and passion that Craig hadn't felt in so long.

The man's name was Mark, and as the night club's DJ the Irish National Anthem, Craig found that he wanted this man, wanted him more than anything he'd ever felt in his entire life.

They returned to the man's friends, holding hands, and they all exited the night club. A few grabbed a taxi and minutes later they arrived at Marks flat.

Craig and Mark and the two others entered. The others headed towards the living room while Mark led Craig to his bedroom.

They fell into bed, lips joined in a searing kiss and were tearing each others clothes off with unknown desire.

For the first time since being abandoned by JP, Craig found himself lying on his back, his legs in the air and his partner grunting and panting above him.

Craig, in his drunken and intoxicated state, imagined it was John Paul towering above him.

And as their fire burned bright, and their joyful consummation arrived, the boys fell into a fretful dream.

The following morning, Craig awoke to find himself in some foreign land, naked, a masculine arm draped possessively across his chest. His head was swimming, yet pounding and he felt nauseated.

He carefully pulled himself from beneath his lover to search for his clothing and escape his one night stand.

He was halfway down the stairs when Mark, dressed in only a pair of briefs and bleary eyed, asked if he would see Craig ever again.

Craig, shamefully hung his head, and declined the invitation.

He left the house, slamming the door behind him and wandered down the street, hands jammed in his pocket. His pocket vibrated and Craig retrieved his mobile phone.

He had received a text message. From John Paul.

_Sorry I'm only texting back now, I lost my phone. I miss you too. Are you coming home for Christmas? I think we need to talk. JP xxx._

Craig refused to reply at that moment, he needed to shower and sleep for a couple more hours, and eat something healthy before he even contemplated his next move.


	5. Blue

The season of joy and goodwill towards all men was present in the air of the University, but Craig's mind was awash with fiscal policies, supply and demand graphs, high and low consumer involvement and the foundations of the Irish constitution

Music is by Angie Hart this time.

**Part Five – Blue**

The season of joy and goodwill towards all men was present in the air of the University, but Craig's mind was awash with fiscal policies, supply and demand graphs, high and low consumer involvement and the foundations of the Irish constitution.

Three weeks since his downward spiral had led to his first experience with drugs, alcohol and casual sex, Craig had become a pioneer. He had remained in his room, avoiding Connor, studying for the up-and-coming end of term exams for Christmas or in the company of his one true friend in Dublin.

He had taken a positive step though. He'd started participating with his course mates. He made friends, much to his surprise, with this stunning Irish girl from Monaghan. Her shimmering red hair fell just above her shoulders as her emerald eyes danced with her mischievousness comedic ways.

He had read and re-read John Paul's text, so much so that he had memorised the message. He still hadn't found the courage to pick up the phone and dial his number. His picture's of himself and JP had reappeared and had assumed right of place at the centre of his bedside table and study desk, surrounded by his notes and clothes.

Connor had left earlier that evening, catching the train back home to Mayo, his exams having finished the previous day, so Craig had called up his new friend Caitrin and invited her around.

Craig replaced his picture of two boys in suits, their arms wrapped around each other, to his bedside table, grabbed his notes for his final exam of the Christmas season and moved downstairs.

He boiled the kettle, dropped two tea bags into mugs and heard the clap of a knuckle against his front door.

He quickly answered it and let his friend in, guiding her to the kitchen.

"How ya fixed?" She asked, nodding towards his pile of study notes.

"It'd be alright if I could understand any of it… why did Economics have to be our final exam?" He whined, dropping into a chair at the dinner table.

Caitrin chuckled before reaching out for his study material. One quick glance at it and she tosses it back on the table.

"It would probably help if you had the right notes!" She said, laughing out loud. She collects the paper from the table and offers to get the correct notes.

"Cheers… my rooms just up the stairs and to the left, my folder should be on the bed." Craig directs her, pouring the boiling water into his mug first.

Caitrin exited the kitchen, humming a song as she climbed the stairs to her new friends' bedroom. She looked towards the bed and saw no folder. Eyeing the room, Caitrin noticed a blue folder peeking out beneath a pile of shirts and vests.

Sighing heavily, Caitrin lifted the edge of the folder, knocking over the tossed clothing and accidently knocked a couple of picture frames from there perch. She jumped quickly as the glass shattered against the floor.

"Oh bollocks!" She exclaimed, hunching down to carefully clean up the glass. She gathered up the largest pieces and placed them on the wooden table before her before collecting the broken frame.

"Everything alright in here? Heard ya scream!" Craig called out, taking the steps two at a time. He entered his room to find his floor reflecting the light like a disco ball thanks to the glass. Wondering where it all came from, Craig looked to his friend for answers.

And gulped painfully when he saw what she was holding - his blue eyed boyfriend could be seen as clear as day.

"I'm so, so sorry Craig! It fell when I picked up your econ notes!" The feisty redheaded apologised, sitting now on the edge of Craig's bed, her eyes locked on the picture in her hands. She dared not look at his face.

When Craig had first spoken to her, he had been reserved and polite. She invited him out with her boyfriend and her housemates the following night. He was reluctant to come out at first, but was quickly persuaded. The following night, around nine o'clock, they had met up in Mustang Sally's for a few quiet drinks (Craig was on Cola all night) before heading to Sin.

Craig clung to her all evening, and when she pressed him to go on the pull, he'd retired into himself and took a major interest in his finger nails. Caitrin sent their party goers off to the bar while she escorted Craig to the smoking area. Offering him a cigarette, which he declined, and front out asked him if he was in love with someone. And that's when the out pour started. Craig told Caitrin everything - the last summer, the airport, even Connor. He'd cried against her shoulder and spilt out his heart and soul in the smoky beer garden.

And he felt so much better.

Now, she had finally seen a photograph of the one Craig called 'the love of my life.'

"He's cute."

Craig laughed, "He's more than just cute."

"Have you text him back yet?"

Caitrin passed him the picture of the two boys in their school uniform, arms wrapped tight around each other, back to its rightful owner.

"I haven't found the words to say yet… I mean, what can I say that I didn't already? I still love him, still want him so much, and I feel like I can give him what he deserves now… a public relationship…"

"Craig, tomorrow we have our last exam before Christmas break, you have your flights back home booked for the day after… you need to arrange to meet up! Go on a date – a proper date, in public, maybe dinner and a movie – and talk about where you both are in your relationship."

"Well then, help me!" Craig implored, grabbing his phone from his bed side table. He opened a pre saved message and began to read it to Caitrin.

_I'm coming home on the 21__st__; can we meet in the Dog that evening? I still love you… I'm ready to give you what you deserve. Cx._

"That's grand! How long have you had that message saved?" She inquired, watching him add a contact to the message.

"Since… since the morning he text me…" He replied sheepishly.

"Craig!" Caitrin whined, hitting his shoulder. "Send that message right now or I won't help you ace econ!"

"Okay, calm down, I'm sending it now!" The message left his outbox and a delivery report quickly followed. "It's done."

"Excellent! Now, let's go downstairs and rock on Fiscal! Woohoo!" Caitrin jumped to her feet, grabbing Craig's folder with one hand and his free hand with the other and jogged downstairs.

He dumped the now cold tea, re-boiled the kettle and took his spot at the kitchen table.

Less than 24 hours later, Craig was free from his stressful revision and was heading to meet with Caitrin and her boyfriend in a small pub just down from her flat. He'd packed his bags, checking his phone every three minutes to see if he'd received a text from John Paul… but he hadn't. His sister and dear mother had text saying they can't wait to see him again; it's been too long… all the same niceties. Craig still hadn't warned them that he was heading home to reclaim that which he lost.

He entered the pub to find it busier than usual, it being the last night before Xmas holidays began. A traditional Irish band was in the corner, playing 'O Danny Boy' whilst a wide screen TV behind the bar played cheesy Christmas music videos.

Finding his friend, Craig moved to the bar and stood beside a gang of lads. He tried to avoid them as they all swallowed what could only be called arsenic and slammed their glasses onto the table top.

Ordering a bottle of beer (he was celebrating!), the blonde haired bloke accidently hitting Craig's arm as he reached out to receive his bottle of Bud, effectively knocking it to the floor.

"Oh, sorry bud, let me buy ya a fresh on…. Don't I know you?"

Craig rubbed his soaked jean leg one final time before glaring at the pillock who'd spilt his drink. Recognition hit, followed by an ill feeling, as Craig's face paled.

"M-Ma..Mark?" Craig broke out.

"Craig? It is you?" Mark asked, ordering another drink for his one-time lover.

"Ye..Yeah." Craig shied away, glancing at Caitrin for help.

"Haven't seen you in a while… how you been?"

"I've been… busy, but good. Wha… What about you?" Craig asked, gulping painfully as the awkwardness failed to pass.

"Oh, just finished my last exam before Christmas, heading home tomorrow."

Craig recalled the taste of those pink lips, the feel of that musucalar hand on his chest, the safety he warmed in as he watched Mark pay for the new bottle. Craig accepted it and, to his own shock, remained at his side as the small talk soon passed to genuine conversation. Craig realised that Mark Gaffney was more of a gentlemen than Craig had once thought, that he was funny, and friendly and majorly fit…. And he liked the idea of someone else wanting to love him for him, not just his status.

Connor and Mark soon joined Caitrin and her boyfriend Oisin at their table, and Craig introduced Mark as a friend. They quartet laughed and drank and had an actual good time. It turned out that Mark and Oisin were on the same course during the conversation between the four that led them in a new direction of topics.

Deciding that the night needed to get a little more lively, Caitrin persuaded Craig in helping her get some shots from the bar.

Standing at the bar, Caitrin ordered 4 Mexican Taxidrivers (half tequila, half sambuca) and 4 shots of Kola Kubes. While the bar man poured, Caitrin prodded for info.

"He so likes you!" She teased as Craig explained that they had met out a few times before.

Blushing, Craig glanced back at the two men at their table.

"He is pretty hot."

"Have you two already…" Caitrin pressed.

"Just the one time… and it only happened because I was depressed, and hammered." Craig explained, conveniently forgetting his experimentation with drugs also.

"Have ye spoken since then?"

"Not until tonight, no."

"Why not?"

"The morning after was when John Paul text me back."

"Do you think you can resist his charms tonight?"

"I hope so… but I feel myself being torn in half now. One part tells me that Mark and me could last a long time, but the other says that me and John Paul are soul mates…and then I think that Mark doesn't want to date my label, just me, and that with JP, I have to know if I'm gay, straight, bi… ugh, did that make any sense?" Craig asked.

"Not one bit at all!" Caitrin laughed, handing over the money for the drinks.

"I need some direction as to what I should do!" Craig whined, lifting the tray of shots.


	6. All I See

**Part Six – All I See  
**

Craig Dean had only arrived home in the village twenty minutes ago and already his mother had begun worrying over him, saying that he needed feeding up, asking how his studies have been, what Dublin is like, all a big distraction to keep the big pink elephant that's in the room from making it's appearance.

Newt, Frankie's emo adopted kid has taken over Craig's room, but has agreed to share his room with the young Dean for the Christmas break. The room that had seen him his confused, in-denial mind being stripped apart layer by layer for months, the very room that Craig and John Paul had made love in, the room where Craig and his mother had argued after that disaster of his and Sarah's engagement party back in September.

The goth had followed into his former room and dropped himself on his bed, grabbing some magazine but not actually reading it.

"Just ask me," Craig said, watching the teen's face cascade with various motions. He finally sets his face in a snarky face and tosses the magazine to the floor, beside Craig's camp bed.

"Are yer gay?" he asked, his voice calm yet his eyes sparking with determination.

"I'm bisexual. I like both. Anything else?"

"Do you love that McQueen?"

"Yes, with all my heart," Craig truthfully answers. He grabs his rucksack and begins to unpack.

"He's the reason yer back, ain't he?"

"Yep. We've been texting for that last while. Says he still loves me."

Newt eyed the latest of his new family members to show up with a line of contemplation. He stood and headed for the door.

"I'll give ya some space, let ya settle back in."

"Cheers mate," Craig replied appreciatively, returning to the task at hand.

"Oh, and Craig?"

"Yer?"

"You're not half bad – might even liven up this place!" Newt said, smiling a brief smile.

"Neither are you, caviar!" Craig teased, tossing a pair socks at the younger teen, just as the door closed.

--

Home for just two hours, Craig was already back in the swing of things and was working behind the bar. He'd text John Paul, since the bar was quiet for the time being, if he wanted to come over and they can finally talk.

JP had texted him back saying that he'd be there in fifteen minutes and Craig had started to unnecessarily clean down the counter top. He'd been at his current spot, rubbing away with the rag for the past five minutes as it gave the best view of the door. Craig's eyes widened in apprehension every time it opened only to fall in a sad sigh when it isn't his ex-boyfriend.

"Who are you waiting for?" Darren asked, joining his step-brother behind the bar and eyeing the door.

"What?" Craig distractedly replied, taking a short step to the right so as to continue his cleaning work.

"I asked who yer were waiting for?" Darren smirked, leaning against the counter, watching the younger lad.

"No one," Craig hurriedly replied, tossing the rag on the counter and moving to serve Leo Valentine.

"Yeah, right!" Darren laughed, moving to the other side of the bar to collect empties.

"Craig!"Leo greeted, his speech slurred already for four in the afternoon, "When did you get home?"

"This lunchtime Leo, the usual is it?" Craig asked, laughing at the drunken antics of the elderly man.

"It is son, ta. So, how's Dublin?" Leo asked, slumping over the counter. He'd started the day early with a few cans in the house before moving to the Dog once the doors opened. Hours later and he was well on his way to being plastered.

"It's hard work, but worth it," Craig answered, his eyes once again drawn to the door. It opened and in walked his best mate, John Paul McQueen. Craig's body physically warmed at the mere sight of his soul mate that he missed what his punter had asked.

"Sorry mate, what was that?" Craig asked, handing over the pint and accepting the price.

"I asked yer, have ya met any nice Irish lasses?"

John Paul, now standing beside Leo, laughed at the question before smiling at Craig, waiting for his answer.

"No one at all mate, no one special, too busy studying! And too much Guinness!" Craig answered, laughing as the older man returned to his seat by the pool table.

The two boys just stared at each other, breathing in the sight of each other, before both started to speak at the same time.

"I'm glad you're back," John Paul said, reaching out to touch Craig's arm as Craig said "I've missed you."

They chuckled at their nervousness, but content to be near each other once more. Darren, having seen the two former friends meet once more, called out to Craig.

"Take a break mate, before you two scare of the customers!"

"Oh shove off Darren!" Craig replied, smiling at his step-brother in thanks for letting him free for a few moments.

"Wanna sit outside, away from prying eyes?" Craig requested, trying to ignore Darren's eyes as they followed the two of them away from the bar, as the two made their way to the door.

Once outside, the two sat themselves at a table and smiled shyly at each other for a few moments, before Craig grasped hold of John Paul's hand and rubbed his hand across the back of his hand. The two quickly began to speak from the heart all that they've wished to say to each other.

"I've missed you so much, John. Dublin is just so different without you."

"I'm so sorry I left you alone in that airport. I said I deserved more, but I was wrong, you were I have ever deserved, anything I've ever wanted."

"I love you so much JP. Even when I pulled in Dublin, I was always thinking of you," Craig said, kissing John Paul's hand.

John Paul, wondering if he should ask the question that formed on his tongue, smiles shyly at Craig, opened and closed his mouth numerous times.

Craig, anticipating this, laughed lightly and kissed John Paul's hand once more, said "Just ask me, John Paul."

Swallowing audibly, looked into Craig's deep brown eyes framed with those long eyelashes, spoke the question he'd wanted to ask.

"You're not scared to be affectionate in public, cause here you are holding my hand and kissing at me and telling me you love me… was it really just three months that yer needed before you could kiss me without fearing what others were thinking, eh?"

Stunned, Craig shook himself awake and smiled at his former lover, "I think the time helped, but also being alone. I think, being by myself has allowed me to realise who I am," Craig answered, watching as the leaves of one of the bushes outside the pub blew in the December wind. "I didn't think that would be the question you wanted to ask me!" He added, breathing a deep breath.

"Why's that? What did ya think I'd ask ya?"

"I thought… I thought you'd ask me if I pulled girls or boys."

Looking to side, to the bridge where they had talked about mother's coming to terms of their sons gay relationships back in September.

"That did pass through my mind, but I knew how sensitive you are about that topic."

Following John Paul's line of sight, Craig smiled to himself before reaching out and making JP face him.

"It's okay, yer know. If ya wanna ask me."

"Did ya pull girls or boys?" John Paul asked, surprising himself at his abruptness.

"Wow, that were a quick response!" Craig laughed. He noticed the serious look that was covering JP's face quickly ceased.

"Yeah, I did."

"You did what? Did ya get with boys or girls?"

"I said yes, as in both."

"Oh," was all John Paul said. His next question was already in his mind.

"So, you're bi then?"

"Yeah, I am. I got to Dublin alone and depressed, but one night I was out with mates from my course, I met this bloke – handsome as they come, and I realised that it wasn't just you I fancied."

"And you still fancy girls?"

"Yeah," Craig said. He didn't think that mentioning that he'd almost pulled his housemate his first night in Dublin. He had John Paul back, and wasn't going to let anything take him away again.

"But you're sure that you're bi? That you're not gonna get scared off again if some stranger shouts at you in disgust for kissing me in a public place?"

"I'm not. I wanna be with you, even if we face some people who are ignorant fools. I'll even tell my family now, right here, that we're back together if you want."

Looking towards the flat above the Dog, John Paul blinked his eyes, thinking they were playing tricks on him. Looking once more, he knew what he'd seen.

"I don't think you'll have to," John Paul breathed, pointing towards the window of Craig's room. Twisting in his seat, Craig glanced up at the window, remembering a time of a Romeo-and-Juliet-esqe exchange that occurred one August day between himself and his boyfriend.

"I think that you're mum is watching us."

--

Having retreated inside, following a sudden burst of rain, the two boys were sitting beside the first, a number of empty lager bottles in front of them as they caught up on everything that's happened between each other since the break-up.

Regaling John Paul with the story of how he and his mate Caitrin had gotten locked outside of a pub they were at when she had nipped out for a cigarette and dragged him along with her for company, Craig explained that he had started shouting for help and banging the door and when the bouncer finally opened it, wouldn't allow them back in.

"… and then the bouncer just tossed us our stuff, not believing we were blind drunk!"

"So what did the two of ya's do for the rest of yer night?"

Laughing at the memory, Craig grabbed his bottle and took a sip.

"She called up her boyfriend and we crashed his class party… and got hammered!"

John Paul laughed heartily, smiling at seeing Craig smile. His eyes crossed with a determined look and he asked Craig the same question he'd last asked him in September.

"Kiss me, Craig. Right here, right now."

Without hesitation, Craig leaned forward and kissed John Paul hard, tasting the seam of JP's lips, asking them to part open. With some tantalizing work, he got permission and his tongue dived in, tasting JP's mouth.

Leaning in closer to John Paul, Craig breathed deep the smell he hadn't realised he'd missed as well, an aroma that was part soap, shower get and pure John Paul, a smell that was driving his senses mad.

Hand gripping the back of John Paul's neck, Craig began playing with the hair he found there. John Paul groaned as the touch awoke his senses to the spark that passed between the two lovers.

Reluctantly pulling away from those sweet, soft lips, Craig finished his bottle and jumped to his feet, asking, "Ready for another?"

Downing the last of his bottle's contents, John Paul nodded his answer.

"Darren, two more bottles of your finished lager please!" Craig ordered, sitting at a bar stool. The pub had remained quiet all afternoon and Craig hadn't needed to return to work that day.

"Coming right up!" Darren saluted, jumping to work, grabbing two bottles from the fridge and popping the tops off. Placing the two bottles on the counter, Darren waved away Craig's offer to pay and looked over at John Paul.

"Everything going well between the two ye?"

"I think we're getting back on track, yeah," Craig grinned, smiling over at JP.

"Well, I thought it would be, seeing as you're kissing and groping in public and all!" Darren snarked, smiling at Craig as the Dean boy returned to his best mate.

Returning to John Paul's side, he kissed his cheek before sitting beside him, "You know I love you, don't you?" He asked, handing the other bottle over.

"Course I do. I love you too."

Holding hands as they returned to unimportant talk about music or films they'd seen, or to course work and exam results, when the door opened they didn't pay a blind bit of difference.

"Craig… What are you doing back here?!" Jake Dean asked, pushing the pram in to the pub, Nancy reluctantly following behind. He left the buggy and Charlie in Nancy's hands before rushing over to his brother.

Once at his brother's side, did Jake realise that his brother was holding hands and chatting with that McQueen.

"Craig, what are you doing?"

"I'm catching up with my BOYFRIEND, Jake. What does it look like?"

"I thought you were back to normal now, bagging all those hot Irish girls in Uni," Jake pleaded, throwing daggers at the younger teen.

"I see mum didn't tell ya any truth at all."

"And what is that truth?"

"That I like boys and girls, that John wasn't just an experiment, that I've been attracted to other blokes at Trinity, even slept with a few. That okay with you?"

"Does mum know about this?" Jake asked, still oozing venom at John Paul.

"She was staring down at us from my room, so I think so."

"What, you two were kissing? In PUBLIC?"

"We are a couple Jake! It's what couples do!"

"Normal couples, a girl and a guy. Not two fellas!"

"Jake," Jack warned, announcing his entrance.

"I'm just saying what the rest of ya are thinking!" He shouted, storming to Nancy.

"Let's get up stairs… don't want this getting to Charlie."

"Thanks Jack," Craig answered shyly, embarrassed that his brother is still the bigot he'd been when he'd left for Dublin.

"Don't worry about it son."


	7. Bliss

**Part Seven – Bliss**

After a late lunch in Ill Gnosh, Craig and John Paul had decided to chill out at MOBS, each with a smoothie before them. Their hands joined, the soul mates basked in the fact that they were finally together once more, that nothing would tear the apart again.

Taking a sip from his smoothie and returning the plastic cup to the table, John Paul remembered the message his mother had told him to pass along to his boyfriend.

"Oh, Mum says thanks for that bubbly you brought with yer to dinner last night," he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Craig's hand.

Smiling at his lover, Craig squeezed John Paul's hand in his own.

"So, ready to face me mum again?" Craig asked, finishing his smoothie.

"As ready as I'll ever be. I still don't understand why she wants me to come over for dinner," John Paul said, smiling at Max as he and Steph started throwing strawberries at each other.

"See you at dinner boys," Steph called over to duo as they got up from their table. Waving bye at his sister, Craig slung his arm around John Paul's waist.

"She wants a Dean family dinner, all her kids and their partners together round a dinner table. I think this is her way of giving her blessing to us. I think she wants me to be happy now, even if it means being with you!"

Taking offence, John Paul lightly hit Craig's shoulder, "Oi! Careful what you say there, Dean!"

"Why, what you gonna do about it McQueen?"

He smirked at Craig, kissing his lips quickly before moving to his neck and continue at his neck, adding "Remember this?"

Craig groaned at the touch twisting his head to give John Paul better access to his neck. "I remember we nearly got caught by Jack," he mumbled, gripping firm on the front John Paul's jacket.

"Anyone at yours?" He whispered, his hand falling from JP's his jeans, his hands sliding up beneath his t-shirt.

"Mum, Michaela and Mercedes are all at home, finishing up their wrapping for tomorrow."

Groaning, Craig moved his fingers up further up John Paul's chest, sparking fire through him, "Mum is preparing this feast for dinner, even though Christmas Day is tomorrow. You'd think she'd care more about tomorrow's meal! I dunno why she's making such a big deal; it's only you and Max who've never eaten with us before?"

"Jake and Nancy aren't coming?" John Paul asked, surprised that Frankie was not fighting his not being there.

"Why would he wanna spend time with the dirty queers? He's too worried that Charlie might pick it up like it was some sort of disease," he said bitterly, drawing his hands out. Taking JP's hands in his own, he squeezed them tightly.

"Still not talking to you?" John Paul asked sympathetically.

"Nope. I don't care if he ever does again; if he can't accept that you and me are together, even if I'm in Dublin and you're here. It's not our problem."

"You're so different Craig," John Paul commentated, kissing Craig's cheek.

"In a good way?" Craig asked.

"We're both different, Craig. It's only 'cause we've changed that we can be together properly. We're gonna stick together now. Love always?"

"Love always," Craig confirmed, kissing John Paul lightly. He threw his arm over John Pauls shoulder, taking JP's right hand in his. He pressed a kiss to John Paul's cheek before they started walking towards the small fountain.

"So, we have no where to go and no thing to do."

"Oi, we have something to do, just no where to do it!" Craig said, laughing as John Paul blushed, smiling slightly.

They sat down at the bench; Craig smiled as John Paul lay down on the bench, resting his head in Craig's lap. Running his hand through JP's soft locks, he leaned down and kissed John Paul's nose.

"I love you so much John Paul," Craig whispered, shyly smiling at his boyfriend.

"Me too Craig, I'm so in love with you."

Playing with his hair, Craig smirked as he recalled something John Paul had months ago.

"I have something I wanna do. C'mon, get your lazy arse up!" Craig said, stroking his hair, before releasing him as he stood up.

Taking a firm grasp of his hand, Craig lead the McQueen to the City Steps. Laughing at the childish way Craig was acting, John Paul stopped his hyperactive ways.

"Wanting to shout something of them, Craig?"

"Only if you are, John."

"Okay then, Craig – you first," John Paul said, shoving him forward, as he climbed up the stairs.

"Ok, here goes nothing," Craig whispered to himself, standing at the very top. He took a deep breath and calmed his nerves before he shouting from the top, "I'm in love with John Paul McQueen!"

He took a deep breath and calmed his throat, when he heard a voice echoing back, "We know!" Craig stumbled down the steps, laughing at the response. He grabbed John Paul's face in his hands and kissed him as passionately he could.

Separating, Craig kissed John Paul's cheek and laughed as JP's legs wobbled. Craig kissed him again.

"Get going JP." Craig commanded, giving him a gently push to the top of the steps.

John Paul began without hesitation, and when the same person who had called out after Craig did too, shouting "Good for you!" and he replied with a "Thank you!"

"So, glad we finally shouted it from your City Steps?" Craig asked, pulling John Paul into a hug, placing his face into JP's neck, as he kissed his head.

"We're ticking off all off my to-do list, I'm having a great time," John Paul cheered, pressing his cheek to Craig's hair.

Pulling apart once more, they interlocked their hands. Craig's phone buzzed in his pocket and he retrieved it, "It's a text from Caitrin, she says she can't wait to meet ya and is so drunk right now," he laughed, opening a reply.

"She's drunk? It's not even gone half five!" John Paul replied, laughing a with a little mixture of shock.

"Yeah, apparently the Camel is doing a fairly decent Christmas party with sand and sangria and fake sun! I'm just texting her back saying we're heading on the beer before swapping presents and then getting for tea with my lot."

"Presents?" John Paul asked, tapping down his side and his pockets, "Doesn't look like I've got anything here," John Paul replied, a mocking look of worry crossing his face.

"Not on ya, you tool!" Craig said, knocking John Paul's shoulder with his own. We're gonna buy each other joke gifts from Drive'N'Buy and getting brown paper bag as wrapping paper." Craig explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, of course… do I get to decide what to get you?" He asked, smiling at Craig while his lower lip wobbled.

"If you must," Craig allowed, his eyes a light with laughter.

Leaning over to John Paul, Craig bit his ear lobe and kissed his cheek before continuing on about his plans for their Christmas Eve together. It was just before they entered the store that Craig stopped John Paul.

"You… You are happy about this, right?"

"What?"

"Us… Being together and everything."

"Of course… what would I want more?"

"Well, for starters, Steven Gerrard."

"Is that my gift?" John Paul cheered, his eyes twinkling as he searched the village.

"Nope.. I was just asking!"

"Devilman!"

"Seriously though," Craig started, rubbing his neck with his free hand.

"Of course Craig, you're all I've dreamt about, all I've ever wanted."

"That's what I needed to hear," Craig replied, his nervousness disappearing as he smiled brightly.

Changing the topic as they entered the store, John Paul lifted the small statue of Jesus that was placed before the till for the Christmas periord.

"Did I tell you? Mum's got the new local priest moving in after Christmas. The place is going be so weird, and you just know he's not going to like me."

"How could he not?"

"Um, because I'm gay?" John Paul joked, returning the statue to the countertop. He followed Craig into the store, who was now looking at the magazine stand. As John Paul joined his side, Craig pushed him away.

"Oi, find your own gift!"

"Feel like telling me what you'd like?" John Paul asked, as serious as they come.

"Well, I'd really like you to strip naked and-" Craig started, before John Paul's hand clasped his mouth.

"Hey!" He laughed, his fingers wiggling as Craig began to kiss them and lick them.

"I'll let you go if you promise not to embarrass me in public… and I can't believe I just said that about Craig Dean."

Releasing him, John Paul leaned in and kissed him.

"I will, if you promise to not let this priest seduce you into his confessional," Craig said, grasping John Paul's hands.

"Craig! He's probably going to be over fifty and balding and a little podgy!" John Paul joked, kissing Craig's cheek.

"Good! Now get buying!"

"Love you Craig," John Paul smiled, moving to the alcohol fridge.

"Yeah, yeah!" Craig replied, scanning the shelves once more.


End file.
